Positive Valence
by orchidcactus
Summary: It's good to come home. Pure wish-fulfillment. Post-ME3. No tears or angst, just Thane and Shepard in love.


**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Thane/f!Shepard

**Warnings:** None

**Beta:** mystery-moose deserves a medal

**Summary: **It's good to come home. Pure wish-fulfillment. Post-ME3. No tears or angst, just Thane and Shepard in love.

* * *

"Hey, Commander," Joker twists in his seat to look up at her. The dark circles under his eyes are at odds with his smirk. "Not that I don't appreciate taking the scenic route home, the next time the Council wants us to run an extra errand..."

"I hear that," Shepard answers, shifting her duffel higher on her shoulder, looking past him at the Citadel docks. She rests her hand on the back of his chair. "Two weeks is a little more than the scenic route. Just good to be back."

"Two weeks off the radar," he corrects. "Incoming communications are still clogged up with people wondering where the hell we are."

She nods. Some of those messages are from Thane. He'll understand. He always has and always will, but she sees his worry, every time she's late. Memories like he carries, she can't blame him.

"Not my fault it took so long to get past those krogan security measures."

"Uh-huh." He shakes his head. "Slowin' down in your old age, Shepard. Decade ago, even on foot, you could take out a nest of thresher maws in under an hour."

She snorts, nodding at his control board. "Rest of the crew off the boat?"

"You're kidding, right? They hit the ground running."

"Good," she turns, heading for the airlock. "Don't make me order you to take some time, too."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, calling after her. "Say hey to the family for me."

Family. Every time she hears the word, her chest feels warm. _Her family._ She's glad he can't see her, because there's no way she can stop an absolutely ridiculous smile.

"Sure thing, Joker."

It's a short walk through D24, but she stops at the scanners to clear her sidearm. At least she recognizes the C-Sec officer working the desk. She's not in the mood to deal with an awestruck recruit.

"Spectre authority," she says, sliding her pistol over the counter.

"Of course, Commander Shepard," he says, running his omni-tool over her pistol, passing it back to her when he's finished. "Welcome home."

"Just good to be back," she answers.

At the taxi stand, she gives a driver her address at the Towers. Tossing her bag in first, she settles into the seat and checks local time again. Still too early to call. The driver glances back at her, like he might want to talk to her. She looks out of the window, watching traffic.

It's forty feet from the skycab stand to the entrance to the apartments. The Silversun Strip never sleeps, and there are the usual tourists gawking as she steps from the cab.

She grabs her duffel, wincing at the way her shoulder grinds and pops. Only a god damned, krogan would use a bunch of thresher maws as watch dogs. She hasn't had to deal with a maw on foot in a decade, but she hadn't forgotten what a mess they make when they explode. She smiles wistfully. She'll never get tired of using the Cain.

An asari couple is staring at her. She grins a little wider, knowing it looks plain mean, giving them a nod. The shorter of the two pales slightly and she almost laughs. The day she starts caring about what tourists think is the day she starts letting Grunt babysit.

There's new tech at the apartment door. She's used to the retinal scan, but the tracking laser that settles on her chest is new. She looks at it for a second, raising an eyebrow.

"Subtle. No wonder we're so popular with the neighbors."

She enters her passcode into the the datapad and feels a puff of air pass over her fingers. A DNA sampler set above the keys. She shakes her head, but she can't help laughing under her breath, wondering if this is Kasumi's work, or Thane's, or if the two of them had conspired again.

Evidently she passes, because the door indicator turns green. The laser snaps off. She decides she doesn't want to know what happens if someone tries to force the door.

The apartment's still, the only sounds the ventilation system ticking away to itself and the muted buzz of Citadel traffic beyond the windows.

It's good to be back.

She sets the duffel down, trying to be quiet as she walks to the bedroom. She stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, crossing her arms. Thane is still sleeping, laying on stomach. She wonders how he manages not to fall out of bed, what with the toddler sprawled crossways, feet jammed squarely into his side.

_Her family_. Even though it's silly sentiment, her throat aches. She kills thresher maws on foot. She stood toe-to-toe with the old machines and didn't flinch. Cured the genophage, destroyed the rachni, made peace between the geth and quarians. She's the Savior of the Galaxy, and she's in danger of crying over these two people.

She shifts position, clearing her throat. Thane's eyes blink open at the sound, and for a split-second she sees something he usually hides. It's cold and lethal. The look of a man who lost everything once and who won't lose it again.

Then it passes. His expression softens and he smiles, sliding out of the bed carefully, fingers of one hand resting for a brief moment on a pajama-clad foot. She watches as he attempts to straighten the blankets, smiling her as she turns and makes her way to the kitchen.

It'll be morning soon and she doubts there will be any sleep with an excited three-year old in the apartment. She taps the coffee-maker's ON button, opening the cupboard, setting two mugs on the counter. Least she can do after waking Thane so early is have coffee ready by the time he gets dressed.

When she swings the door closed, she's startled to see him standing there, still only in the light cotton pants he sleeps in.

She takes in a breath and half a step backwards, biotics flaring reflexively before she can dampen them again. Then she narrows her eyes.

"Thought you were getting dressed."

One corner of his mouth twitches.

"Not funny," she says.

"No. Not at all."

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, pants riding low around his hips. She raises an eyebrow, making it obvious that she's admiring the view, head-to-toe.

He gives a short laugh, looking away, and—after lingering a few more seconds—she goes back to their coffee.

She tips her head toward their bedroom. "Bad dream?"

He blinks, a deliberate closing of each set of eyelids. She knows him well enough to recognize when he's been caught.

"No. But I—"

"I get it," she says, leaving it at that as she pulls a carton of creamer from the fridge. She really can't blame him.

He clears his throat, changing the subject. "Kolyat and I had lunch together yesterday. It seems he wishes to continue his studies on Kahje."

"Kahje? Really? That's—oh." She glances at him. "Doesn't have anything to do with that pretty girl with the blue and silver scales, does it?"

"Of course it does." Another short, dry laugh. "It would not be the first time one of the men in our family have made a rash decision to pursue the affections of a beautiful woman."

"Thane Krios, you are full of shit."

His eyes follow her as she fixes the coffee. And like a teenager, she flushes under the directness of his stare.

He touches the back of her hand. She lets his fingers rest there for a moment, warm and solid, then she turns toward him, twining their fingers together, pulling him toward her. His mouth twitches again.

"I missed you," she says.

"I..." he hesitates, faint smile becoming more serious. "And I, you. Each day, with each breath, that much more. "

She swallows, eyes tracing his features. Black eyes, so serious and concerned. Tiny black scales scattered like freckles against green. The way the corners of his mouth turn up when she glances at his lips, before meeting his eyes again.

"Shepard," he says, gently, lifting his free hand to rest on her hip, sliding around her waist to draw her into a tight embrace. She mirrors the gesture, palm flat on the small of his back, fingers pressing in.

When he speaks again, it's a murmur against her hair. "I fear I have become lost in you."

She draws back, smiling before she kisses him. Carefully at first, almost a chaste exchange. His lips are warm, fitting against hers. She sighs and hears an answering hum of sound that she knows to mean happiness. She thinks again how empty her life would be without him, how much she loves him.

Then his lips part and he deepens the kiss, tongue brushing hers and the hum lowers until she can feel it, too. She smiles against his mouth, capturing his lower lip for a moment before she slips her tongue past the line of his teeth, if only to hear his soft rumble of simple _want_.

She feels the play of muscle under scales, the strange rough-smooth that has become so familiar, so much like home. His hand slides under her jacket, tugs up her shirt, fingers light on her skin. Air from the vents touches her skin and she shivers, but not from the cold.

The toxins from his skin hit her and she feels unsteady, but she's safe here. She's not sure how long they stand like that, arms wrapped around one another, kissing each other, hands moving as though they're relearning things forgotten in the weeks apart.

It's long enough she's sure their coffee has gotten cold. Long enough that the artificial lights blink on outside the windows. Long enough she hears movement in the other room and a little voice chattering nonsense words.

They pull away at the same time and she blinks as the room sways. He holds her tighter, a slightly embarrassed set to his smile.

"It's just good to be—" she breaks off, because her throat is suddenly tight again.

"Siha?" he asks, thumb moving in a slow circle against her wrist.

Not _back_, she thinks.

"It's so good to be home," she tells him.

END


End file.
